HARRY POTTER & THE POTION MAKER
by Hono no tenshi
Summary: Now that the war is over, the two of them have to move forward, to find themselves, and to fight for what they really want, finding that at the wizarding world you can be discriminated not only for your blood state… A powerful DRARRY drama. TRANSLATION.
1. The Doom of the Death Eaters

**Hello readers:**

I am NOT the original author, I commited myself to translate this extremely amazing fanfic from Spanish written by a very talented writer, the way too much imaginative **Zafy**. I'm doing this because this fanfic is (I may dare to say) the best Spanish DRARRY M-rated story written so far. This incredible & wonderful story has captivated thousand (not kidding) of readers and received thousands (really not kidding) of reviews in all the fanfiction sites it has been published. So let me entertain you, and please be gentle with my translation, I'm from Mexico City, so writing on English isn't my best feature but I'm trying.

**HARRY POTTER AND THE POTION MAKER**

Original title: _**Harry Potter y el Fabricante de Pociones **_(buscalo así en FF si gustas leerlo en español)

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_Original Author's notes:_

Hello everybody!

From the dungeon on my manor, in Lima, Peru, I raise myself with a new fanfic, an idea that I'd though long ago, my second idea for a fanfic actually, but for some reasons I couldn't brought it on paper earlier until this year (2009), so now here it is, please enjoy!

Warnings & Disclaimers (as always):

All characters (as you all know) are JKR's, I only gain the benefit of entertaining myself by writing about them. But what the characters might suffer from now on is on me.

This fanfic is slash, meaning a boyXboy relationship, if you don't like it then don't read it.

Here are gonna be abuses, intolerance, angst, drama, lemmon, death of more than one character, romance, mpreg and some sickly sweet scenes, so…you are warned.

(Warnings for this chapter: intolerance, drama, death)

Very well, now let's read.

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**HARRY POTTER AND THE POTION MAKER**

**FIRST BOOK: SUMMER**

**CHAPTER 1**

"**THE DOOM OF THE DEATH-EATERS"**

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'_Each war is a destruction of the human spirit'._

_(__Cada guerra es una destrucción del espíritu humano)_

_ By Henry Miller_

_July 20__th__ of 1998, prison cells of the British Ministry, built on the dungeons to hold the large quantity of death-eaters waiting for the verdict gained for their participation of Voldemort's attempt to take control of the wizarding community…_

His heart was beating too fast, faster than ever, the fear that was drowning him was by far the greatest he had felt in his life. Not even when he was near the Lord, or near his demented aunt Bella he felt this overwhelming panic. And there he was, only eighteen years old, almost about to face a court, knowing beforehand the result of his actions, knowing beforehand he was doomed. His father wouldn't be there to help him, neither Snape, nobody could ever defend him. He felt how his entire body trembled, and his eyes started to ache.

_No, don't cry, don't_, told himself as he raised one of his arms, heavier because of the chains that anchor them. Lowering slightly his head, his hand finally could wipe off the couple of tears that threatened to escape his eyes.

_It's not bad to cry, we do it because we feel, should thank the fact that we could still feel, _a voice in his head told him, a voice he hadn't heard in a long time and that missed that day more than ever.

He sighed softly -"Yarik", he said almost without voice, thinking on how it would be different if only they had run away as he asked him, but no, they hadn't do it, and now he was there, on that cold prison cell, just waiting.

He took a breath, expecting that the air that filled his lungs could bring him some kind of relief. He looked around again, as he had done it since he got locked there; the dirty gray walls, those grids taking his freedom away, his Hogwarts robe looking worst than the ones wore by the manor's house elves.

He needed no mirror to know how he looked. He thanked not having one to avoid watching himself, to avoid realizing how much defeated he was: alone, seated in the middle of a filthy cell, counting the days, hours, minutes that remained until someone would enter the door and take him in front of the court… that court who eventually would kill him. He almost could hear their voices rejoicing, damning him to the worst a wizard could receive: a dementor's kiss.

As he had done many times before, he cursed the moment Potter rescued him from that burning room, it would have been better to stay there, letting the flames consumed him, as happened with Crabbe… his friend Crabbe. He couldn't remember the time they meet each other; perhaps all life, that's why he couldn't remember it. Despite the war and everything that had happened, somehow they had changed and moved apart. He was certain that deep down they remained as the same kids playing in the manor while their fathers talked about business and their mothers were drinking tea in the garden. The war had destroyed that, their friendship, their bond… but still he thought that the tears for him were justified, perhaps.

A sudden noise brought him back from his thoughts, in front of him, two aurors were looking at him with a triumph smile.

"Malfoy, the smallest and vile of death-eaters, your hour have come", one of them told him with a mockery tone as the chains that bounded his arms and legs were released.

Draco tried not to let out a sigh of relief now he had been freed of those ties but instead he gave them the best look of hatred he could manage. He stood up and walked toward they air worthy.

"Just look at this kid…", muttered the second auror.

"Hope this one doesn't scream so much as his father when he dies".

Draco felt that information made a deep hole through his heart; his father was through the trial, his father had died. He avoided showing any emotion, while feeling how his legs started shaking. Soon his lungs wouldn't let pass the air, and his heart would keep beating too fast. He raised his head even more and with a dignity he no longer felt, he walked with pretended firm steps. The aurors held him on each arm. The dark corridor from which he had entered some time before, who knows how much time ago, seemed so much frightening. He forced himself to keep walking, to finally face his destiny.

He was forcefully pushed through a bog gate, a new room with better lightning stood in front of him, it had some small chairs around, but he wasn't welcomed to none of them so he remained stood. In front of him was another door, hearing whispers he tried to figure out some talking, but couldn't make it. One of the aurors held a little bottle with a transparent fluid and forced him to drink it, _Veritaserum_, Draco thought before swallowing the liquid.

"Now you will tell the whole truth…", whispered the auror that made him drink.

"No more lies, nor excuses Malfoy", the second auror said, although that comment took Draco off guard, he didn't let the surprise into his face.

Suddenly the gate opened and the noise from the other room stopped, a red-haired freckled guy, _Weasley_ thought Draco, looked at him for two seconds before indicate the aurors to grab his arms and to pull him into the new room's interiors.

Draco was tied rapidly to a chair, the chains around his arms were too tight, bruising the skin, and another chains crept up to his legs, forcing them near even more to the chair's legs. The blond raised his head and watched a great tribunal before him, everyone wearing maroon robes, surprised that most of them were looking at him with pity, feeling sorry for him.

He composed his gaze, he wouldn't be weak, not now nor never, not even if those were the last minutes of his life, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of letting know that Draco Malfoy looked defeated or frightened.

"Did he drank the Veritaserum?", the red-haired asked to the two aurors, both nodded.

"Speak your name", said a voice from one of the wizards.

Draco felt that the words coming out at their own will without any thinking from him at the process.

"Draco Malfoy".

"Well, Mr. Draco Malfoy, do you understand you are here to be judged for your involvement in Tom Marvolo Riddle's plans, a.k.a. Voldemort?", The sound of random whispering and little jabber filled the accommodation for a few seconds, however the man remained speaking, ignoring them –"For letting pass, on June 1996, some death-eaters into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? For taking part in the planning of ex-headmaster Albus Dumbledore's murder? _And_ because of your participation in the last battle trying to help out death-eaters?", told him the voice of a wizard that Draco recognized as Kingsley's.

"Yes".

"Are you guilty of all the previously mentioned?", Another question from Kingsley.

"Yes".

"Well, Mr. Malfoy, we have witnesses and proves that indicate that your participation in all of this actions were somewhat…coerced for the fact of being death threatened both of your parents and yourself, is this right?"

Draco couldn't help but wonder, had someone testified that? That was impossible, or maybe his father or mother, trying to save him, had confessed…

"Yes, it is", he muttered without even noticing the moment the words left his lips.

"You don't have the dark mark on your arm, why is the reason of this?"

"The Lord marks your arm only if you kill someone under his name, something I was never capable of", Draco was astonished because of his own answers that he couldn't control.

"Did you were somehow tortured by Voldemort to force you to murder someone?"

"Yes, on more than one occasion".

"Then you could never kill someone, despite the torture. What was the reason?"

"I'm not a murderer, I'm not capable of doing so".

A new murmur filled the room, Kingsley raised his hand for silence before continuing talking.

"Were there another punishments after the failed attempts of murdering?"

"Yes".

"What exactly were these punishments?"

"_Cruciatus_ in general, although sometimes he used spells I didn't knew".

"Was there any posterior consequence to this punishments?"

"Yes, I spent some days in bed, due to some of the tortures".

Draco inwardly cursed himself for those responses, but he was already resigned for not having anything he could do about it.

"Dumbledore offered his help to you and your family, before the group of death-eaters interrupted him in the Astronomy Tower, on June 1996; do you wanted to accept the aid?"

"Yes", Draco couldn't help but wonder how it was that they knew what happened in the tower, only him and Dumbledore would know.

"When Harry Potter was captured along with Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley and taken to the Malfoy Manor, you refused to recognize them in front of your parents and your aunt Bellatrix, did you knew it was them?"

"Yes, I knew it from the beginning".

"Why you didn't reveal their identity?"

"If I revealed who they were, the Lord would had come and killed them, the least I wanted was the Lord returning home to continue torturing and humiliating us…"

"During the last battle did you tried to capture Potter in the Room of Requirement?"

"Yes".

"Then what happened?"

"Crabbe…", his throat closed in a known way and he begged to not start crying before them –"Crabbe died and Potter rescued me from the room on fire".

"Why you tried to capture Potter? Did you want to take him to Riddle?"

"It was the only way they would let me go out of the school and leave the battle, I only wanted all to stop and be reunited with my parents, I feared for them".

"After Potter left you in the hallway, after the fire, did you went into the battle?"

"No".

"Why not?"

"I didn't want to participate nor be there, I just wanted to go home, wanted everything to end", Draco noticed how his words sounded a little bit choky, he tried to inhale to calm himself.

"And then what did you do?"

"I tried to get out of the school, to run away, I didn't have my wand nor a way to defend myself and many of the death-eaters that were fighting didn't let me pass…"

"What happened to your survivor classmate Gregory Goyle?"

"He…", Draco tried to remember but he couldn't, after being rescued by Potter he had dragged his friend's body behind one of the demolished columns, soon after he woke up they started to argue about Crabbe's death, and finally they split up, Goyle swearing revenge to Potter and his friends despite they had rescued him from the fire, although Draco knew deep down that Goyle thought the one and only responsible for their friend's death was Draco –"He decided to fight and we split up" it hurt him to say it, it sound like betrayal, but he couldn't help himself from answering. He bowed his head trying to not look at the jury.

"Mr. Malfoy, now tell us the names of the death-eaters you knew, those ones you knew that carried the dark mark and worked on Tom Riddle's behalf", Kingsley asked, while extracting a long parchment from a pile of the same material piled up in a precarious balance on his side and looked at him with plenty of attention.

Draco swallowed before speaking again. He began by mentioning his father, Kingsley answered that he had been judged, then the blond continued with Mr. Crabbe, both Goyle father and son and Mr. Nott, and with everyone he had seen in the manor that were summoned by the dark mark. At every name that he pointed out Kingsley was tagging "judged" or "lost in battle".

When Draco thought of Theron Forsyth, the name of Yarik's father, and Kingsley said "lost in battle", Draco could not help but feel relief in his chest, at least that guy was death, he hadn't been spared. He continued talking during another long time, an endless time he thought, until his mind seemed to be empty, without anything to say anymore.

"Well, I think we have enough", Kingsley said looking satisfied and addressing the other wizards –"I don't see why go further with the interrogation, we got everything we wanted, unless someone would wants to add something…"

There were an awareness whispering in the room and Draco inhaled deeply again, the end was near. He wondered if with his soul getting sucked by the dementor, he finally would be able to rest and stop feeling because his body will turn onto a empty unfeeling shell… after all of this that was kind of appealing, whilst it didn't hurt him everything will be fine. He raised the head and waited the verdict with the most dignified look he could manage.

"Sir Minister", said the voice of a white-haired fat woman on the tribunal –"I just want to tell my Wizengamot fellows that this boy was only a child when he was forced to take part of Voldemort's ranks and, by what I've heard, is more than obvious that, as Potter said, we must not confuse him with Lucius".

Draco couldn't help the surprised grim on his face, what were they talking about? Did Potter went over there, just to speak on his behalf?

"I understand what you are talking about, Irina", said another wizard on the tribunal at the right side of Draco –"but he was capable of choosing already, right?"

"Oh, come on Pierre", answered the first witch to which Draco was now looking more closely –"you know that at the age of sixteen one doesn't has too much options".

"Even more so when your parents may die by your decisions", provided a third wizard, younger than the previous two. Draco followed the conversation that the wizards held at the court turning his face from one side to the other, still without believing or understanding what they were discussing.

"Perhaps the decision that he should had took was to get away from their parents", the wizard under the name of Pierre almost yelled, and Draco couldn't stop himself once he heard those words.

"Abandon my parents?", Draco shouted out pulling the chains that secured his arms trying to stand up –"Who would betray their parents like that?", he felt how the chains cut through his wrists' flesh but didn't care –"If I didn't do it they would die, and I'm not a murderer!"

A much stronger murmur arose from the room while the aurors tried to get Draco to sit properly.

"Silence please!", Kingsley said while knocking the table, bit by bit the other wizards kept silence.

"I am _NOT_ a murderer, nor a _TRAITOR_", Draco kept yelling, one of the aurors hit him on the stomach and he felt how the air left his chest, he dropped into the chair again while taking mouthfuls of air trying to response.

"See…that's what you want to set free in our streets?", said Pierre standing up and pointing him with one finger –"A man, yes, a man, Irina, 'cause that's what he is, not a boy", he remained speaking and turning to the witch to look at her accusingly –"A man that can't control himself, who reacts this aggressively at the first thing he doesn't like".

"I would react like that too if someone told me to leave my parents and let them to be executed", said the younger wizard also standing up –"And I don't think that hitting the prisoners is allowed", he added visibly upset to the aurors, who took a couple steps away from Draco with an ashamed look.

"That is why the ones that are so young like Bonaccord shouldn't be part of the Wizengamot", Pierre said directly to Kingsley –"they don't have too much experience".

"Oh, don't start Pierre, the boy who defeated Voldemort will turn eighteen just in a few days, I'm not as young as him, although it is quite a compliment coming from you", Bonaccord said with a sarcastic smile towards Pierre.

"Also disrespectful are they…", whispered Pierre with an angry red face, his dark eyes looking turning from Bonaccord to Kingsley like if he was waiting some answer or apology.

"Well, I think it's enough", Kingsley said standing up –"This is turning into a circus". The entire room remained silent, Kingsley gave them an approval glance before sitting down and continuing speaking. "We have heard everything we need to, now we just need to decide, I don't want any other personal opinion".

Draco felt his heart beating with strength again, after all the disputation, the moment of his sentence finally came, nevertheless the conversation remained spinning around on his head, that Potter had talked with them, but about what? Or why? He acknowledged sadly that it was likely for him to be sent to the grave with those questions.

"Giving the nature of this case, we'll opt for a secret voting, so my assistant Percy will levitate the amphora and collect your votes". An approving whispering began while Percy walked to the front with a little cup similar to the one used on the Three Wizards Tournament. "The ones in favor of the young Draco Malfoy's reintegration to the wizarding community, under the laws and dispositions known, must give a positive vote; the ones against it and that wish to condemn Draco Malfoy to life imprisonment on Azkaban for his participation in Riddle's ranks, must give a negative vote".

Draco blinked and almost raised his hand to demand an explanation, there wasn't a dementor's kiss between the options, that was worst than he imagined, he would be doomed to a life imprisonment. He remembered how his father returned from prison, the little chats that he was able to hear hidden from his parents about this matter, about how horrible was the whole experience, and Draco always believed that it was way too better to be death instead of passing time along with dementors and other wizards yelling and asking for death. He swallowed hard at watching the little amphora that was floating from place to place by the 50 wizards that integrate the Wizengamot. The young wizard, the one called Bonaccord give him a warm smile when the first put his vote inside the cup, but Draco was way too nervous to correspond the gesture.

Few seconds passed but Draco felt them like hours, whilst Percy finished his task and then center himself in the room, at the farthest point from Draco, and started counting the votes aloud marking themselves in middle air: _Yes, no, yes, yes, no, no, no, yes, yes, yes…_

Draco felt his stomach shrinking during the counting, closing his eyes he tried to fade away the buzz in his ears, surely they would consider the whole process as a torture, hearing one by one the votes, the maddening slowness in which Weasley made the votes levitate to place them on the imaginary board on the middle of the court, the far sound of a ticking clock he recently noticed, sighs and sounds from small talks between the Wizengamot members… If he had had the freedom to stand up and scream because of the desperation, the need to know, he would…

It was his life they were talking about, it was his life they were deciding, _his life_, a life that wouldn't exist any longer, wouldn't have any longer, that did he ever had? Maybe not, always linked to his parents' wishes, friends', society's, to the Dark Lord's and the death-eaters' desires, yes, perhaps, after all it wasn't his life, it was all of them; suddenly loosing it wasn't too disturbing. He opened the eyes just to watch Weasley levitate the last vote to the side with a "_yes_" above on the board, he tried to count quickly but Weasley was quicker.

"We have twenty-eight 'yes' and twenty-two 'no', Sir Minister".

A great whispering and commotion rised from the tribunal once again, while small pieces of insults like _"Death-eater", "slicker", "murderer"_ arrived into Draco's ears, but he wasn't paying attention and was looking the board without understanding: 28 against 22, that meant…it really meant? It was so good he didn't even dare to think about it.

"Please", yelled Kingsley –"this is unacceptable", the entire accommodation was silent again, Draco wandered his gaze, watching how some of them looked at him with scary hatred, others with expressionless faces, only Bonnacord and the other wizard by his side were openly smiling at him. Draco looked away, feeling lightly embarrassed, while Kingsley continued talking.

"Now that we all have recovered our composure, is your turn, Mr. Draco Malfoy". Draco raised his gaze towards the new Minister, who seemed very important.

"Yes, Sir", he said almost as a whisper, he felt embarrassed from the lack of confidence of his voice, but thought that given the case it would seemed appropriate to look humble in front of those ones looking at him as he were the worst disaster in person.

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Draco shifted himself uncomfortably in the chair, while squeezed his hands. He decided that it was impossible to remaining seated, he was extremely nervous, so he stood up, the two aurors that were flanking him –not the ones that guarded him during his trial− gave him an uneasy glance, but Draco ignored them knowing they couldn't quarrel him just because he stood up from the seat. He raised his head glancing the small clock that was hanging in one of the walls near to the door, it was marking 10:50 AM, in about ten minutes someone would come for him and would take him to his mom's new house.

He unnecessarily smoothed the dark robe that his mother sent him that very morning. At the beginning he was happy he could stopped using the grease, dirty, broken, and even burnt Hogwarts robe, but at the very moment he put on the 'new one' his humor felt completely, not even the pauper Weasley dressed something with such a poor quality. The minister Kingsley himself informed him during the trial that all their wealth, properties, affairs, stocks, and anything his family had owned were expropriated by the Ministry. Until then he believed things couldn't be worst but never thought about the possibility of being gold-less, it was weird, he'd imagined himself death, soul-sucked, or imprisoned for life on Azkaban several times, but never without any money that could provide him another better life. Yesterday back on his cell, he was really frightened, with a gloomy anything-can-happen perspective from now on.

He reached into his pocket for the copy of the commitment he had signed after the judgment, in which laid all the actions prohibited to him as well his new obligations. He must've it with him always in case any law had changed, or to reach him if he needed to know of any information or citation. When he signed it in front of the tribunal, he was so shocked to bother himself to read it, he just scrawled his name in every point he was indicated, and then he only left returning to his cell without any thought, creasing the parchment. He knew the commitment's content more or less, because the minister explained him some important points, but to be honest, his head still was spinning around while he kept nodding as if he was paying attention. He smoothed a little the parchment and started to read:

_1. You have the obligation to conclude your studies on the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry _

_intends to reintegrate you to the society and to fulfill this, you need to be completely qualified as wizard._

_2. In case of having no resources to do so (issue #1), the Minister will take care of such expenses._

Draco stopped reading, his stomach was revolving because of the waiting, and those two first commitments were causing him worst discomfort, how they supposed he would go back to a place where everyone would hate him for sure? It'd be worst now he hadn't any money or supporting, he didn't even know if Goyle would be there to help him like before… He took a moment to remember they used to be three and now Crabbe would be no more. It still hurts.

He folded the contract and put it back into his pocket to read it later, when he would be beside his mother, away from that place. He tried to ease his hair, that very morning before dressing, the aurors let him to take a bath on a dirty and almost destroyed shower cabin that only had freezing water, he spent the few moments there death frozen, at least he counted with a small soap and a shabby towel…Not minding his attempt to shower, he remained feeling dirty and uncomfortable, he couldn't wait longer to sink himself into a hot bath tub and leave his body to finally rest, perhaps by a couple days at least.

He looked the clock one more time, _10:59_, sighing there it was, finally his departing hour. He remained standing, looking at the door with attention, as if by that he could force the time to go faster.

The door opened and a very young woman in a sky-blue robe gave him an annoyed glance, behind her entered a couple aurors.

"Mr. Malfoy", she said with contempt –"your wand", she added handing him the wand he thought was lost. He almost asked how they get it, but the woman continued speaking imposingly. "The aurors will cast a localization spell and will erase every spell ever performed until this moment".

Draco nodded and handed the wand to the aurors, not without a certain sense of loss, now he had recovered it. One auror whispered a few words and a little silver gleam lighted the wand just a second, the other one waved his wand and emerged a red light, both aurors nodded in agreement and handed it back to Draco. "We'll be waiting for you in thirty days for your revision, as it is stipulated on the commitment".

"Ok", answered Draco while anxiously taking his wand between his hands again, the familiarity and security it provided made him smile.

"You can leave now, there is a portkey waiting outside to take you with your mother", the second auror told him pointing the door that Draco was looking at for the past hour.

"My mother didn't come?", Draco inquired a little bit confused to the woman that was giving her back to him now.

"Poor creature, he needs his mommy!", answered the woman in a mocking tone to one auror that just smiled sardonically before turning to Draco, who was already squeezing his wand stronger trying to control the desire to respond with a barbed comment.

"Behind that door there is a portkey waiting for you, _Mr. Malfoy_", repeated the woman pronouncing the last two words with much more disdain than before.

Draco sighed, that wasn't much more than a little taste of what would be waiting for him from this moment and he knew it, he hadn't any choice but adapt to this new life or to die trying and he wasn't giving up.

_A Malfoy does not give up_, he repeated again and again while walking toward the indicated door, with his head up he walked his way as his parents had taught him.

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She was waiting, she was used to wait by now, it was the only thing she could do, the only one. Her usefulness was reduced to nothing this occasion; there was nothing she could do to help her family, to help his son. The dices had been threw, and she was praying, begging that this time the luck would be on her side.

She was the first of the three Malfoy to be judged. She didn't knew by the moment but the newly published 'Daily Prophet' had made a huge party out of them, there was a magical count-down board in it to let the wizarding community know the days left before "The great trial of the Malfoy family", that's how they named it. She really thanked being so isolated to ignore everything they were saying about them, about the bets regarding their verdict, because that would end destroying the little sense remaining on her mind when she was locked on that place. On that horrible place.

The prison cell was completely gray and barely lighted by the rays from a lamp on the hallway. Chains in her wrists and feet tied her to one of the walls with the exact distance to move around the cell, sure, only if she wanted to carry the chains' weight. It was an unfair treatment, it seemed to her, she didn't had her wand which meant it was nothing she could do inside the cell. That was only for the pleasure to watch them humiliated. Having them feeling like the slag that now they represented to the society. And they feel like it.

All that nights without sleeping, waiting, crying in her weakest moments, she always thought of them, constantly praying for them to be fine. Thinking of Draco and how cruel was the destiny for dooming a boy to prison just for following his parents' ideals. Thinking of Lucius and almost resigned knowing that if there were someone who wouldn't escape with life through that situation, it would be her husband. She still remembered the guilty she felt during those last days, when she and Lucius forced Draco to return to the school, when she hadn't been able to talk with him for a last time, loosing the opportunity to amend with her son. She also remembered that explicit moment, during the last battle…

**Flashback**

_Narcissa was retorting her hands and walking from side to side, stopping only when an explosion rumble came from the castle, each one stronger than the last one. Then she just whispered without daring to watch "Don't let it be Draco, not Draco!", before starting to walk again from side to side._

_The faded sound from Lucius' steps made her turn quickly, watching her husband walking slowly, dragging one leg slightly, with his robe hanging in pieces and the marks from the last Lord's torture remaining visible. Everyone was forbidden to heal him with magic._

"_What did he said?", she demanded grabbing his shabby robe –"Is he going to stop it?" _

_Lucius denied it with his head, not being able to pronounce any word, the slap he received across his face wasn't hurting him as bad as the pain he felt because of his incapacity to help his son. He just stood there, ashamed._

"_It's your fault!", yelled Narcissa –"You filled his head with those ideas, you told him that to obey the Lord was the right thing to do". Narcissa stepped back a couple steps feeling unable to remain near his husband another second. _

"_I have to bring Snape", murmured Lucius after another explosion was heard and they watched how one of the towers crumbled apart. _

"_Bring my son back!", Narcissa demanded when Lucius was leaving with tired steps, the man stopped one moment but didn't turn around and barely nodded before getting away completely._

_Narcissa followed his track until she lost his sight, she knew Lucius was suffering, she knew he regretted a lot of things, like the last fight he had with Draco, even more of having dragged him to the middle of an endless battle, but she also knew that if Draco didn't return, if Lucius didn't bring him back…she would never forgive him, nor herself, she should have made Draco to escape, she should have helped him to run away with _him_, but now it was too late… _

**Flashback End**

The radio that, until then, sounded very gently with a honeyed melody and somewhat exasperating, stopped its transmission and Narcissa stepped out of her thoughts getting the volume up, she knew what would happen next, she had heard the news during the past fifteen days, the number of days she had spent outside, the broadcaster informed about the verdicts of the ex-death-eaters…

"As a completely unprecedented and contrary-to-what-everyone-thought decision", the announcer began to report eagerly –"today at 4:35 p.m. the Wizengamot dismissed the session, releasing the son of the very well known death-eaters Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Draco Malfoy…"

Narcissa dropped herself onto the wooden chair she had been laying all morning; she knew from the news on the radio, that Draco's trial was that day. She couldn't be near the Ministry and much less visit her son, so she waited sitting on that place she now called _home_, lacking any other option, as she did when Lucius's trial took place, whilst others were deciding the life of the two men she loved.

"We've been informed of some disturbs on the Ministry's Atrium…", the man's voice said after a moment of silence –"Yes indeed, apparently some wizards and witches dislike the verdict and had decide to show their discontent by blocking the Atrium…", the narrator seemed to repeat what someone else was informing him at the moment, Narcissa clenched her fists, feeling anger against all those people trying to condemn a boy to something so horrible as the prison, his boy. "The aurors are dispersing them, repeating, the manifestation it's being scattered apart, so it is better to not go nearby …", the broadcaster seemed to be wordless by a moment, Narcissa held her breath, she wouldn't be happy until having his son safe at home, hoping this last occurred soon. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, I've been informed that the disturbance is over, the minister himself came out asking the gathered people to leave the Atrium and he'll offer a press conference tonight, don't worry, you'll be able to hear each and every important news here at your favorite frequency 'TWR'**. And before ending this transmission let's do a count, it's been a total of thirty-seven high-ranked death-eaters already judged, being Draco Malfoy the second released; the first one was Narcissa Malfoy. There are rumors talking about that it was Harry Potter himself the one that pleaded for both of them before each trial, this apparently because of a life debt, although as always happens with 'the great savior of the wizarding world' we haven't been confirmed. Until now the shortest condemn given by the Wizengamot it's the one bestowed to Gregory Goyle, who according to many witnesses took part of the final battle, although he doesn't have the dark mark and didn't kill anyone, he was condemned to forty years at the new high-security prison of Azkaban. The most severe dictums were, as the wizarding community demanded, death penalty, which has been given to twenty of the thirty-seven judged death-eaters. It's an interesting twist the releasing of Draco Malfoy, though, 'cause everyone thought he would received life imprisonment after his participation on Albus Dumbledore's murder. It seems that the Wizengamot was way too much condescending with him, receiving the same sentence as the low-ranked followers of you-know-who, a number of wizards and witches ascending hundreds. We know that the Malfoy family does not longer count with any of its wealth that characterized and made them so influential, so now we only have to trust the Wizengamot's criteria to be the correct and not one that risks the community by letting out one of the youngest death-eaters, not caring, as I think, if he carries or not the dark mark on his arm, he's a death-ea…", Narcissa decided she had heard enough, his son had been released and that's what mattered, the only think that was important now. It would be better for her to prepare everything for his arrival, she knew that their lives would be tough from now on, but at least she had her son by her side.

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Draco didn't notice how long he had been locked in until the day before, when he read the date 'July 20th, 1998' written inside the commitment, he could swear has spent years, even decades on prison. During the first week he spent on that cell he tried to keep the days but resigned shortly, thinking that it was better to not know, it would prevent desperation.

Now with the commitment inside his pocket and the wand on hand, while approaching to an empty butterbeer bottle –the portkey− to return home with his mother, he suddenly felt all that horrible dark days against his shoulders; more than three months without looking at the real sky, moon or sun, without looking at his parents… He changed his trail of thoughts now he was nearer the more-than-a-normal bottle, he didn't want to think of his parents yet, he didn't know what happened to his dad, only that he was death, but his mother was out, waiting for him somewhere, and that was pleasant enough, for the moment.

"Ten seconds, Malfoy", said the bored voice of an auror behind him.

Draco nodded indifferently, starting his own counting backwards on his mind, his heart was raising and his breathe was unease, he was just at _seven_ when he felt a pressure against the stomach that only got bigger. For a very long time, he seemed, his body was pushed and pulled in every direction, while colors and lights flashed by his eyes changing fast. His ears started to buzz, but suddenly floor was against his feet. He bent a little his legs to prevent from falling, and when he finally kept his balance he opened the eyes, although he couldn't remember when he closed them. He blinked a couple times trying to adjust to the brilliant light that illuminated the whole room. He dropped the bottle/portkey that made a grave annoying noise, although it didn't broke. But Draco only cared about the figure before him, the woman standing in front, who was looking at him in that manner that made his heart warmer and his confidence bigger; the way his mother looked at him.

Narcissa tightened her lips a bit, watching as her son materialized in front of her, by an instant she didn't know what to do, her muscles and extremities were petrified and the only think she was able to do was to simply look at him, looking every bruise, every hair out of place, how skinny he was, his injured hands that held the wand with way too much strength. His gaze, one so similar to Lucius', his eyes and features, he seemed slightly frightened or perhaps surprised.

Their moves were synchronized, both of them taking a couple steps through the room and reencountering into a loving and strong hug, a hug that spoke of pain, of regret, of longing… Draco left himself drown into his mom's warmth and thought that remain like this forever would be splendid, feeling protected inside that place, where he knew nothing bad would happen. He felt his mother's warm tears running through his neck, and for the first time since he was imprisoned, he followed Narcissa and cried along. He was crying because of the happiness of seeing her, for the sorrow of his lost friends, for his father, for the unknown future, he was crying because, after all, he was just an eighteen years old boy that was dragged into a hostile world…he was crying because he didn't know what else to do.

**N/A:**

***Gregory Goyle: In fact on the 7****th**** book it wasn't explained what happened with Goyle after the fire, the next time Draco is seen is when he is trying to escape in the lobby, but by himself. Goyle wasn't mentioned either during the last moment in the Great Hall, nor when everyone is free from Voldemort, so I'll suppose that he went to fight on Voldemort's favor and that's why Draco (that only cares to escape) split up with him. **

****TWE: The wizard radio (from original Spanish version)…not so clever I know.**

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_Author's notes:_

Thank you very much to everyone that read this.

Did you like it? Please send me your opinions/complaints/suggestions/questions^ because I gladly will read and answer all of them.

Next chapter:

"**CHAPTER 2: AFTER WAR, HARRY'S TALE"**

Kisses to everyone.

**Zafy (Pao)**

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_Translator's notes:_

Well, I really hope I did a decent job translating this, the (^) above is to let you know that I do want to know what do you think, either if you want an answer from me or the original author, 'cause surely I'll let her know about each and everyone of your reviews.

And if someone is interested in taking the job as my **beta-reader **(Spanish beta-reader was Luni), I'll be extremely happy, I do need one, 'cause as you already read, my English need to be polished. Please let me know if I screw something, like typos, grammar, syntax or any other mistake. And now because this is the first time I'm publishing and I do want to hook you up I will give you another chapter, so go on.

**Hononotenshi **


	2. After war: Harry's tale

**Hello everybody! **

Thanks for keeping reading and I really hope you did it because you liked it!

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_Author's notes:_

First of all, thanks, really thank you everyone that read my story.

As you know already, this fic is based on Harry and Draco (it's a DRARRY!), but now this chapter will be about Harry, and the next one is gonna be about Draco, then Harry, and so on. This one is going to be about what happened with Harry after the war.

Warnings & Disclaimers (as always):

All characters here (as you all know) are JKR's, I only gain the benefit of entertaining myself by writing about them. But what the characters might suffer from now on is on me.

This fanfic is slash, meaning a boyXboy relationship, if you don't like it then don't read it.

(Warning for this chapter: drama, a lot of it…)

Now read and enjoy!

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**HARRY POTTER AND THE POTION MAKER**

**FIRST BOOK: SUMMER**

**CHAPTER 2**

"**AFTER WAR: HARRY'S TALE"**

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'_We, the ones before, aren't the same'__*****_

_(Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos)_

_By Pablo Neruda_

_May 3__rd__, 1998, Gryffindor dormitories, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Harry didn't remembered how many hours he remained awake, nor how much time he kept fighting until, with Ron and Hermione, left the Headmaster's office. He felt that at each step his took, his legs were weaker and weaker, that his eyelids were heavier and that the tiredness was covering his entire body.

He faintly remembered have arrived to the remains of the boys' dormitories at the Gryffindor tower and have growled "nights" to his friends while leaning the head on the pillow, he didn't even looked at the tray filled with sandwiches and pumpkin juice that waited for him, he just closed the eyes and immediately fell asleep into a dreaming world.

The dream was pleasant, in the dream he was happy. Unconsciously he remembered that he had spent a lot of time without having a happy dream, one without war, deaths or pain, and decided to enjoy it greatly: he was dreaming of his parents; the three of them were standing beside the Black Lake at spring, flowers filled the scenery with colors, and the sunlight glowed surrealist-like above all. The castle was behind them without any scratch, like if the war had never existed at all. He was seated near his parents, chatting peacefully, like if they had talked from the whole life. Nearby were standing Lupin and Sirius walking toward them, although they looked non very enthusiastic to reach them, Sirius was surrounding Lupin's shoulders with the arm and both of them were smiling in a way Harry never saw. On that moment his mother raised an arm and stroked his cheek, calling again for his attention, Harry smiled at the sight of his mother and when she opened her mouth to say something, he felt something disturbing him in a abrupt manner, dragging him out of this wonderful dream he was having at the moment.

He blinked twice, he was still confused and sleepy. In front of him, with the arms crossed and an dissatisfied gaze, was Ginny. Harry tried not to get angry with her, he was pleased deep down with her looking for him, he needed to acknowledge the fact of having missed her a lot…

"Hi", Harry whispered drowning a yawn, across the window he could see a darkened sky, wondering how many hours he had slept, since he remembered that there was daylight when he fell asleep, and though apparently it was night now, he was still weary, feeling like he only slept a couple minutes.

"Hi?", replied Ginny, she didn't seem too cheerful as he hoped. Harry saw that Ron's bed still had its dossals closed and knew that both Ron and Hermione were still lying in there –"That's the only thing you're going to say?", Ginny said.

Harry looked at her questioningly and thought it was likely because of the tiredness he still felt, because he couldn't understand why Ginny was so angry.

"The guys are still sleeping and I…"

"Right", Ginny said –"Everybody have been waiting for you downstairs for hours, I've been waiting for you for hours, we didn't know where did you go or if something had happened to you".

"Oh", Harry wrinkled his gaze thinking it was a little overprotective that people believed that something could happed to him, especially now that Voldemort was dead –"Well, I've been here, sleeping…", he smiled at Ginny, looking her now more in detail and trying to comprehend why she was so irritated, although it didn't help it that the girl remained arm-crossed and with a fearsome gaze. –"I'm still tired, you know, and I thought you would be tired too".

"Tired?", Ginny replied, her anger didn't seemed to be lesser –"I've been waiting for you for almost ten moths and you promised me that when the war was over everything would be fine, but when it's over you come and the first thing you do is to get into your bed to sleep, what about me? What about your promise?"

Harry started to get really pissed up, there had only passed a few hours after the war ended and the only thing he needed was to sleep, rest, and clear his mind and to try to assimilate everything that happened. He hoped that people would understand, that Ginny would. He didn't need to argue right now. He sighed trying to calm himself and looked directly in her too shiny brown eyes, and her shiny red hair.

"Listen, I've been awake for more than two days… and I'm really tired, and I know that you and me have to talk, a lot, you don't know how much I've missed you", he extended his hand enough to caress her backhand, feeling her warm and soft skin, although she didn't change her posture –"How about you stay with me and sleep together for a while first? Then we'll talk all you want…"

Ginny denied it with her head and took a step backwards.

"There are people waiting for you downstairs".

"People?"

"The Minister, my parents, the remaining Order's members, aurors, reporters… everyone of them wanna talk with you", explained Ginny.

"Well… I guess all of them will have to wait", Harry answered shrugging and getting apish, if indeed they were grateful because he killed the snake-face, the least they could do was to let him rest, and they would do it by the good way or the hard way.

"Wait?"

"Yes, the only thing I want to do for now is to rest", he extended his hand again toward Ginny, waiting some kind of respond from her that didn't appeared. –"I'm sorry…", he muttered defeated before turning his back completely to her to wrap himself and finally sleep, knowing he didn't need too much effort to accomplish it, every muscle in his body –muscles he didn't even know existed−, were aching, sending him a huge portion of pain and numbness. A few minutes passed, or that seemed to Harry, before sensing the wait of someone else in his bed, he opened the eyes to look at Ginny, who was now leaning beside him. Harry opened his arms gladly to be able to hug her, breathing her fragrance, and sighed happily.

Next day, very late, Harry awaked alone, without Ginny by his side, and noticed his friends Ron and Hermione, who were chatting in whispers on the red-haired's bed who had a tray with food on his legs. Harry didn't seat up immediately and remained eyes-fixed on his friends, enjoying the view; they happy and relaxed, one beside the other. Now more gracefully he remembered the way they kissed the night of the final battle, or it was morning already? It seemed to have been too long since that happened… He could see sunlight passing through the window that warmed the room pleasantly, and then he noticed… Why he didn't notice it after Voldemort's death? Maybe he was too stunned and tired to perceive it, but now that he did, he could see his friends with entire clarity, he could see their smiling faces, the tray with food, the walls around them, he could see perfectly, without needing his eyeglasses…

"Harry?", Hermione called with an almost timid voice, Ron turned to him with attention, and Harry smiled lightly before seating up straight in the bed.

"Guys… how long you've been awake?"

"Barely an hour…", Ron still seemed somewhat fuddled.

"We've slept for over twenty-four hours straight", Hermione informed –"It can be true".

"I suppose we were really wasted", Harry said stretching himself, now he felt very rested.

"Kreacher brought us food, he says McGonagall is waiting for us, when we are rested enough and be ready we have to go see her, she has a lot to talk about with us", Hermione kept speaking while Ron stuffed another muffin into his mouth, enjoying the flavor. That single gesture caused Harry's guts to roar loudly, making him to blush lightly before the disapproval glance of Hermione.

"Sorry…Think I'm hungry".

"Here, there's enough food for the three of us", Ron said with his mouth full and motioning his hand toward Harry to go near them. Harry dumped his blankets, noticing that he still was wearing a part of the attire he had used a couple days before, during the last battle; that thought disturbed him a little, unexpectedly the scenes of every single lost friend, Fred, Collin, Tonks, Remus… the image of the corpses piled up beside the Great Hall reached his mind strongly, he shivered lightly, wishing to be able to rip apart all that clothes that smelled like the battle off his body.

"There are clean clothes in the bathroom, Ron and I took a shower already… go and do the same if you want", Hermione told him after a moment of silence, Harry nodded without looking at her, he knew she understood what happened, surely they felt the same.

The shower lasted longer than he thought, he wanted the water and soap to wash away all the memories of the war, the desperation on his mates' faces… the death.

His friends seemed to empathize with his mood, because during the lunch they shared, all remained in a pacific and calm silence, barely broken by trivial comments, like how late it was or that they finally got to rest enough.

The three young wizards walked toward Professor McGonagall's office, the hallways were destroyed, there were blood stains and fallen walls; it was what the war left them, it was what cost to defeat Voldemort.

"I'm glad the three of you are feeling better", the professor said soon after they entered the office, she still looked pale and a bruise on her cheek proved her participation of the war.

"Thank you", the three friends answered at a time, seating down in the chairs the professor indicated them, while she stare at them in a way different than before, there was some pride in her gaze. Harry remembered when he had used the _Cruciatus_ against one of the Carrow siblings to defend the professor and felt a little shame for having cast that curse in front of her.

Prof. McGonagall informed them about what have happened during the day, that the aurors were finishing to lock up all the death-eaters, and they already have released all the prisoners and hostages locked on houses controlled by the same death-eaters. Furthermore she told them about how the wizarding community was facing the situation reeling from all the looses, and she, with slightly wet eyes, also informed them about the mortuary services to be held the next day, near Professor Dumbledore's tomb, where they have created a monument in honor of all the fallen wizards and witches during the last battle and the entire war.

Harry didn't want to hear all of that, his mind was blank, trying to overlook that information, he didn't need it, he didn't want to know more about it, he preferred to be deaf and away of that meeting, of anyone that talk about funerals, cemeteries, monuments and acknowledgments… suddenly he longed his bed at the Gryffindor tower more than anything.

After spending more than an hour listening to McGonagall and repeating over and over that there were some things that they couldn't say about what happened for real, she let them go, indicating them that at the Great Hall was the Weasley family waiting for them.

Harry walked like in a dream by the hallways with his two friends toward the Great Hall, where the Weasleys were waiting. He almost didn't feel the hugs and pats of the family members, or Ginny's kiss on his cheek, noticing more than ever Fred's absence. George was beside his father, looking exhausted and haggard, his eyes lacked the usual sparks they glowed before, it was like he was incomplete, he lacked his other half; he lacked Fred.

Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry and cried by his shoulder for a long time, he embraced the hug, caressing her back and looking for something he could do or say to heal her wounds and calm her pain. But with plenty of frustration and sorrow he realized there was nothing he could do about it. He managed to defeat Voldemort as everyone hoped, he had been the key player to end a horrible war, he even gave his life for it, but nevertheless, he was incapable of comforting that woman who did so much for him. He felt worse than before.

Despite Ginny's protests, Harry decided to stay in Grimmauld Place, he couldn't stand be near the school anymore time, when every corner made him remember what had happened. That castle had been his home, his true home, but now, by the time being, it was no more than a creepy place he wanted to escape from immediately.

The other Weasleys understood his desires and didn't objected, saying that they would go visit him soon enough, but still they had to deal with one of the hardest things, Fred's and the others' burial.

That same afternoon him, Ron and Hermione moved into Grimmauld Place. Kreacher went to help them and to do some clean, but the house looked exactly like they left it many months ago.

Hermione maintained a wear glance while she pilled up all the parchments that still remained on top of the kitchen table, those that showed her first plans to get into the Ministry and take Slytherin's locket from Umbridge. Just for a moment Harry wondered what had happened to that woman now that the war was over, after she involved herself in Voldemort's plans.

Harry and Ron decided to share the same bedroom they occupied during their fifth year at school, and Hermione took the bedroom next door.

They didn't carry any of their belongings, barely a couple of tunics Mrs. Weasley gave to them, the other things they had were at Fleur and Bill's Shell Cottage, who had promised to bring them next day, after the funeral.

When Harry hit the bed one more time it was late at night, he'd been walking around the house, recalling when Remus had appeared there and they argued, that made him remember about little Ted, barely a month old, his godson, the one he must look after and support from now on, now that both of his parents had died.

Another thing that distracted him was that Hermione noticed the absence of his eyeglasses, he missed them too, and he had tried to use them during the meeting with Professor McGonagall, but he only damaged his sight by doing so. He felt awkward without glasses, but he no longer needed them.

He tried –under Hermione's request to test her theory− to speak parseltongue, but he couldn't do it, and then the girl remembered something from one of Dumbledore's books, which explained that an object used as Horcrux got some sort of damage, but now that Voldemort was gone, Harry got recovered from that damage, in other words, he recovered his normal sight and had lost the part of the powers Voldemort gave him: the ability to speak parseltongue.

Harry couldn't say he would miss that gift, he knew it was for the better, he didn't want to have a single vestige of Voldemort inside his body. Never again.

The funerals were at midday. Ron, Hermione and Harry appeared in the Hogwarts' entry, the three wearing their dark robes and walking on silence through the gardens.

Ron was holding Hermione's hand whilst the girl curled her arm around Harry's, and got nearer to the big group of chairs placed precisely as in Dumbledore's funeral, only that in this time there were a larger number of them, and people too. As they got nearer, people started to point at them and whisper things. Harry was more uncomfortable with the time passing, even considering the idea of disappearing and take shelter inside his bedroom one more time. Hermione pressed her hand stronger against his arm and forced him to raise his gaze, her brown eyes trying to cheer him up a bit, Harry took a breath and hurried to reach the place where the Weasleys were waiting.

As soon as they got there, Ginny approached the nearest to him with a disgusted glance, and took his free hand. He liked the nice and comforting gesture, clasping their fingers and suddenly Hermione released him from the embrace while he exchanged greetings with all the Weasleys, and then he twent where Andromeda was seated, holding a little baby wrapped in a light blue blanket.

"I'm very sorry", Harry whispered without knowing any more thing to say in a moment like that, the woman raised her gaze and tried to smile, although she only managed to get a grimace. Harry bent down a bit to look closer at the little baby that was sleeping in his grandmother's arms, completely unaware of what was happening, ignoring he had lost his parents just a couple of days before.

"My daughter and Remus used to talk about you so much, they told me about your decision of godfathering Teddy".

"Yes… I agreed, of course", answered Harry sliding a finger over the little one's fist with fear.

"I hope you could come to visit soon, Teddy will need a lot from us now that…", Andromeda twisted her lips and looked away toward the baby, Harry knew she was holding tears, he put a hand softly in the woman's shoulder.

"We'll be here for him…"

The older woman just nodded in silence, incapable of say nothing more.

The ceremony started a second later, the same old wizard that proceed the burial of Professor Dumbledore was in front. Ginny didn't let go his hand the whole time, Harry looked occasionally at his friends, Hermione was crying with her head against one of Ron's shoulders, while the boy looked everything with an absent mind. He knew Ron was restraining himself, as Harry was too, to not run away from there, nor to break out in front of the crowd.

After the ceremony ended and all the white coffins burned and melted within the soil, Harry was surrounded with many of the surviving Order's members, everyone of them relieved and hoping to great him because he managed to finish the mission Dumbledore entrusted him, though he didn't want to tell them about the details of that mission yet.

But Harry in did tried to explain them about the participation of Snape in all of it and how he had been one of the mayor players to end the war. The Order members, including the interim minister Kingsley, didn't look very convinced, and Harry understood that he needed to fight hard to clean the professor's name, after all he deserved it, by being one of the bravest men Harry met, it wouldn't be fair that his name didn't get taintless and aloft.

When the afternoon ended, after he had talked with a lot of people, he got back with his friends to the house, and decided to lock himself in. Going out to the streets and see the world wasn't appealing to him anymore, he rather stayed there, in silence, peace and calm.

The only thing that was disturbing his longed peace was Ginny, who came every afternoon to see them, Hermione took advantage of it to disappear along with Ron, leaving them alone. At the beginning everything was fine, Harry was relieved inside her arms, caresses and kisses, more daring each time, however the contact gradually became overwhelming. Ginny demanded him to leave his confinement, she commented him about all the ceremonies and celebrations that were taking place all over the wizarding world, about the school's reconstruction and how everyone was claiming for 'The Great Savior' to come out.

Harry was still denying that, he didn't want to know anything about was going on outside Grimmauld Place, about how people was being captured or rescued, not even wanted to receive the 'Daily Prophet' anymore, he knew his friends were reading it, by receiving a copy every day at home, but he simply wasn't interested.

Ginny's insistence was ruining his humor day by day, at the end he was able to speak about it only with Hermione, while Ron was visiting George.

"What you need its a change of air", Hermione said while stocking his travel trunk with his stuffs –"get out of here…"

Harry grunted annoyed and sat down on the bed looking at his friend with a twisted glance.

"You don't get me, I need to persuade Ginny to stop pushing me to get out and you come and say exactly the same…"

"No, no, Harry", Hermione got closer to him, taking his hand. –"I was talking about getting out of London, of England actually, take a vacation or something… get away of all of this".

"Oh…"

"Maybe Ginny could go with you", Hermione suggested, but Harry denied it quickly with the head.

"She… I don't think it's a good idea", Harry sighed deeply, remembering how easy it was to argue with his girlfriend lately. –"I missed her and thought about her and the moments we spent together all the time, but now… now things are different, and not like it used to be back at school…"

"We all been through a war… I suppose we all changed, especially you, you are different now".

Harry avoided the girl's stare, weighting her words, he indeed felt different, there wasn't anyone who was chasing him or wanting to kill him anymore, no more threats against his beloved ones… but still, although he knew everything had ended and that he was free to live, he didn't want it, he couldn't do it, he felt guilty because there were so many that wouldn't do it, he only wanted to be locked there, for the rest of his life perhaps…

That night Ginny appeared again, she looked upset when she entered the room to reach Harry, who was seated on the rug reading one of the few quidditch books he had.

"Don't want to go out tonight either?", asked the girl seating down beside him and taking away the book from his hands.

Harry asked himself why is it that they couldn't expend the time like Ron and Hermione, just enjoying each other company, quietly and relaxed reading or writing.

"No, and don't push it".

Ginny made a tantrum and leaned forward, providing Harry a better look at her cleavage and breasts, while Ginny put her hands on his arms, pulling him.

Harry sighed profoundly and filled in the space remaining between them to kiss her, slowly and softly, as he always did, while she leaned even more alongside his body. He could feel her breasts against his chest and her legs pressing against his, he felt them quite small, it was like he just noticed how small she was. Didn't know in what time, but suddenly one of Ginny's hands was over his member, pressing it over the fabric of his pants, he drowned a little groan against Ginny's lips while he pushed her trying to get away from her.

Ginny exhale irritated and looked at his eyes, her cheeks were hot red.

"I don't turn you on".

"What?", Harry asked blushing too.

"I don't turn you on, I'm not good enough to do it", Ginny crossed her arms and looked away, Harry begged inside to not see her crying.

"Ginny?"

"Don't say anything, surely you like someone else and that's why I can't turn you on"

"But, is it that you want…?", Harry left the sentence incomplete, hoping his girlfriend ended it for him, he felt awkward talking about _that _with her.

"Yes, of course I want it, it is you the one that avoids me night after night, you don't like me to kiss or touch you, because you don't want me, it must be that you like someone else", Ginny stood up and straightened her clothes, without looking at him not even once.

Harry remained seated watching the girl and the beautiful she was with her long hair falling over her back, her pink lips and her slim figure under the outfit, however she was right, he only thought she looked nice, or pretty, but that didn't arouse him…

"Are you going to come back tomorrow?", he asked when the girl was reaching the fireplace to return home.

"For what reason I'd do that?"

"To talk… or to expend some time together, we could…", Harry stopped when he saw the annoyed grimace on Ginny's face and quietly observed how she disappeared using the floo network, as soon as she did it he gave a huge sigh and leaned back completely on the carpet. He had tried to think nothing, to stay blanked, to don't worry about anything in the world, yet there was Ginny, a problem that forced him to meditate, and he didn't want to do it because that implied to remember and he wasn't ready for it, not yet.

After that evening Ginny didn't come back at all, a few days passed and Harry didn't want to recognize he felt better without the distressing presence of the red-haired girl.

Ron already had told him that Ginny said it was his turn to look after her at the Burrow, and although his friend seemed a little irritated for what was happening, he didn't complaint about it, Harry guessed it was because Hermione was calming him.

One evening, three weeks after the end of the war, Harry and Ron were playing Wizard's chess, while Hermione was checking some pamphlets on the couch. Harry had wanted to ask her what they were for, but thinking they were about places in which to study, or careers to follow, he didn't dare to do it because he really didn't want to start a conversation about the future, but then Ron commented something in particular. Harry had failed to hear or/and care about any comment concerning what was happening outside his four walls, but this one comment did pick his attention, because it contained one key word: Malfoy.

Harry looked up from the chessboard.

"What did you say?"

"Oh, sorry", Ron hurried to answer, twisting his gaze and looking toward Hermione who was leaving the pamphlets aside.

"No, I'm serious, what did you say about the Malfoy family?"

"Oh, well it…", Ron doubted one second before responding –"would be interesting to hear the radio tomorrow night because the request of Lucius Malfoy will be answered, it is about they being judged separately as individuals and not as a family.

Harry leaned completely in his chair and then looked toward Hermione searching for some explanation, because the girl didn't answered immediately he didn't had any other option but to ask aloud what he was thinking.

"Are the Malfoys in prison? Why are they in detention?"

"Well, you didn't wanna be told about any of this, that's why we didn't do it…", Hermione started to explain nervously, Harry bit his lip feeling a bit guilty, it seemed that his friend were kind of scare of him.

"I know, but now I do want to know, please", he said with soft voice and intent to smile toward the girl, who just sighed and nodded a lot more calmed before starting with the story.

Harry was pissed off, the Malfoy family hadn't been on the good side, they hadn't been informers nor much less, however Narcissa Malfoy had being the key to him for not telling the truth to Voldemort back on the woods. Lucius Malfoy was anguished for his son, he had been hit, mistreated and humiliated in front of his family at his own house, and Draco, well… Draco was nothing more than a frightened youngster forced to make half of the things he had done, and although Harry didn't want to admit it, if he had been in the same position as Draco, he would have did everything and worst to save his parents. No, definitely the Malfoys weren't good, but they weren't evil either, and he still had a debt to Narcissa.

He listened carefully the whole story, that the Malfoys had returned home after the battle and the aurors were waiting them at the very entry of the manor, ready to arrest them, and that today they were on separate cells and how the Wizengamot was going to decide next afternoon whether the trial would be conducted for the whole family, this, especially because the crimes committed by Lucius practically meant death penalty for sure.

"Death penalty?", Harry shrieked interrupting Hermione.

"I know, it's so retrograde and unfair, but nobody disagrees… they prefer to free everyone of the potential dangers and of the possibility of another strike back, and…", Hermione looked away an instant –"Sometimes I think they are right, the severity of the punishments would make less people want to rise against the Ministry and the wizarding community".

"Hermione!", Harry objected against his friend, disbelieving to having heard her right.

"I said sometimes!"

"So tomorrow we're going to know what would be of them then, if they judge them separately its possible that only Lucius get executed", Ron continued to explain, stopping the start of the argue –"and a chance for the mother and the ferret to receive life imprisonment on Azkaban".

"Life imprisonment?", Harry snorted, his mind and sense of justice starting to work again –"That is the same as to condemn to death penalty".

"Some people are very angry", Ron said shrugging. –"They had us prisoners at their manor, the crazy aunt tortured Hermione and…"

"First", Harry cut him off–"They didn't had us prisoners at the manor, it was only Lucius and Bellatrix, maybe, not Narcissa nor Draco, actually he didn't wanted us to be recognized when they asked him if it was us and I'm absolutely sure he knew who we were by the moment we crossed the entry. Besides, it was his aunt, you said it, not them, who hurt Hermione.

"Ok, but…"

"And second", Harry continued with a louder voice –"It was Narcissa who saved my life on the woods, if she wouldn't lied, Voldemort would had killed me right there, I was wandless and completely vulnerable.

"But she did it because of her son, not for you", Ron insisted.

"Yes, because she only wanted, like Lucius, to take their son out of there, it was a long time since lining up beside Voldemort became unpleasant to them, they were there because they couldn't escape", Harry carried on. "And third, Draco lowered his wand at the Astronomy Tower, Draco didn't want to kill Dumbledore, he'd never do it, he was just frightened, fearing for his parents to be killed, the three of them.

Ron only denied with the head and looked away, however Hermione did stare at him with half a smile. Harry twitched the gaze.

"What?"

"Nothing…", she said moving the shoulders –"Do you want me to keep telling you about what's happening outside?".

Harry didn't duded it for a second, he felt like he had been awaken from a dream, he needed information and to know what's going on in the world and with everybody, now remembering even the Dursley.

Next morning he started to work already. Unlike the before previous days, he woke up too much early, he took a quick bath and got dressed to go out. At the kitchen Kreacher served him a big cup of coffee and some sandwiches that he gladly ate while the house-elf was still around, it seemed that after all they been through they'll get along very well. After he finished breakfast and had asked Kreacher to tell Ron and Hermione that he went out for some errands until late afternoon, he reached the fireplace to use the floo network and to go to the Ministry.

The Ministry's Atrium was almost as he remembered, although the great fountain that got destroyed at his fifth year was missing, and he thought that was for the best. There was a lot of people around, it was like if the whole world was at the Ministry. Somehow he started to feel suffocated, watching the people come and go from side to side, he combed his hair with a hand in a way to cover his scar and cursed himself for not bringing his invisibility cloak. He walked slowly, trying not to draw attention, but in only worked for about two seconds because after a young witch yelled his name pointing at him, everyone at the Atrium hear about _who_ was there, alone and without any kind of protection, he was no other than the great Harry Potter.

He took a couple steps backward while people started to surround him, he could hear their voices, laughters and words, some saying "thank you", other "hero" or "savior" and "thank you" again. He felt drowned, suddenly the air around wasn't enough to breath, and the temperature started to rise, the people wasn't almost touching him actually, but it was like he was been pushed against every direction. He inhale and tried to step forward, but he couldn't, his legs wasn't working, and the public still was repeating thankful words and pushing even more around him. That seemed to last for hours, though he could swear it just lasted a few seconds until he felt a hand surrounding his shoulder, he raised his head to look at an auror with a blue robe, standing beside him, he sighed in relief while another auror, a younger one, was smiling at him.

"It's ok, ladies and gentlemen, please let the boy to pass", the younger auror said, and Harry looked at him, kind of annoyed for having called him "boy", he was almost 18 years old, he wasn't a "boy" anymore.

"Come on, come on, we have to step through", said the voice of the other auror, but Harry didn't paid him attention, he was still staring at the younger auror, he had brown hair and a very striking pair of blue eyes. His skin, pail and clean, flashed more than his eyes, apparently the man felt his stare because he looked toward Harry and smirked at him, his smile seemed almost as if it was shining in the middle of the hubbub, Harry felt like blushing and ashamed, looking away he started to feel the surroundings hotter, especially on his shoulder where the blue-eyed auror had his hand.

When they finally could reach the elevators, both aurors released him and Harry felt kind of awkward because the younger auror terminated the contact between them.

"You shouldn't appear like that, Mr. Potter", the oldest auror told him while the doors were closing –"You should have warned us about your visit, to wait for you, we have hearths for V.I.P. such as you are to appear without the need to cross the whole Atrium".

"I'm sorry, it was something without planning", Harry excused himself with half a smile and avoiding to stare at the guy who was still beside him, too close to feel him but somehow too far to touch him even –"Thank you for helping me".

"No problem", the voice of the younger one answered Harry, who had to turn toward him again, he felt his cheeks burning just because of his presence and he couldn't understand what the hell was going on. "My name is Joseph Benoit", he added extending his hand toward Harry, who rushed to answer the gesture, the hand of the man lingered the handshake just a moment above the normal, while Harry stared again at his blue eyes, and recognized that this guy was kind of… charming, it could be the word if the fact of feeling as or more than nervous as on a date with Cho wouldn't exist. –"And this is my partner Eloís Thompson".

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Potter", the other wizard said quickly extending his hand as well.

"Harry… please just call me Harry", he stuttered listening to the elevator's patter and doing his best to understand what the fuck was happening to him with this Joseph guy.

"I suppose you are here to see the minister", Eloís continued.

"Yes, I am, but if he is busy…"

Joseph giggled, something that Harry unexpectedly liked.

"Nobody is busy enough as to not be able to receive our great hero".

"I'm not a great hero", Harry replied kind of irritated, but the anger suddenly faded away when he felt Joseph's hand against his shoulder again, burning him and sending him pleasant sensations to the rest of his body, sensations he hadn't feel before, and he was hoping that the man wouldn't realize his currently state.

"Please forgive me, I wasn't mocking at you, we all are really grateful with you for freeing us of you-know-who".

"Voldemort", Harry corrected him more out of habit than for wanting to show his 'courage' at speaking _the_ name. "I'm sorry", he rushed to say after watching both men shuddered.

None of them spoke again during the few minutes before leaving the elevator and to walk through the corridors until reaching one of the offices, where a sign with the legend 'Minister of Magic' was hanging.

"Well, I think you'll be using the minister's fireplace to go home, so it was a pleasure to met you, Harry", Eloís said extending his hand once again, but Harry just nodded.

"Yes, it was nice to met you", Joseph said offering the hand too toward him, and Harry really enjoyed the strong hand's touch against his skin, it wasn't as warm nor soft as Ginny's, but he liked the sensation as well.

Harry nodded just once again and avoided to look at him once more because he knew it would make him blush, though he couldn't understand the reason, but he didn't had time to think about it, first he needed to fix a couple things.

He took a breath and entered the minister's office's anteroom, where a young and way too anxious assistant received him and offering him everything he possibly could want, leaded him to the end where Kingsley was waiting him already, on his feet and smiling.

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After a visit to the Ministry that lasted the whole morning, during which he had to convince not only Kingsley but the entire Wizengamot as well, he appeared on Privet Drive. Strangely, he felt a bit guilty for not having thought about the Dursleys not even for an instant after the war ended.

He walked the path that lead Magnolia street until he reached the front of what had been his kind-of-a-home during so many years. The house was clean and seemed very alike to the other houses, apparently it didn't had any damage or imperfection.

Momentarily, he thought he could stand there until a family member came out and saw him, but after a second thought, he decided it would be best, regardless he didn't want to, to knock at the door.

It was uncle Vernon who attended at the door, he seemed thinner, although he was still obese, he gave him a upset look and growled something that sounded like a "hello" before opening completely the door to let him in, and Harry did it feeling kind of weird and out of place. He heard aunt Petunia at the kitchen and walked toward it, after all he only wanted to check if they were ok, that nothing bad had happened to them, he did expected no especial treatment.

"Aunt Petunia", he called softly, the woman turned fast, startled, he thought her eyes were shining for an instant, but maybe it was only an illusion, because a moment later she was as always, with that reproaching glance exclusive to him.

"I see you are back".

"Yeah, but only to check if… if you're alright", Harry explained looking around and feeling Dudley's absence.

"He's out with his friends, he won't come back until late at night", the woman told him guessing his hesitation.

"Well… I suppose that…", Harry watched around, all looked more or less similar as the last time he was there.

"You should had told or communicate us about the end of all that", the woman reproached interrupting him, uncle Vernon sat down on one of the kitchen's benches, with a look of having heard the next speech quite a few times already.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have…"

"Were you hurt?", his aunt cut him short coldly, Harry denied it quickly with the head –"Locked in, unable to speak or move?", yet another denial, and aunt Petunia waved the wooden spon she had on her hand, pointing at him –"Then there was no reason for you to not communicate to us, I guess you could have use the phone, it is more than that bunch of…", she made a grin, like as she was holding the word before continuing –"those you send us with could do".

"I… am sorry", Harry repeated without understanding the whole situation, he noticed that he didn't understand almost any of what was happening around or with him. Hermione was right; the war changed everybody, indeed.

"For your good I hope so", the woman concluded crossing her arms, Harry smiled lightly and after asking some more about their wellbeing, he decided to return home, it was sunset and he yet needed to talk with his friends.

His penultimate step of his schedule for the day was to clarify the things with his friends, he'd seen the pamphlets Hermione had read, there weren't about places to go and study, but instead ways to go to Australia, another punch in the guts for Harry. Hermione had bewitched her parents to move away and to forget her, with the idea of bring them back at the end of the war, but a month had passed and she hadn't done anything yet, he realized that she didn't act because she didn't wanted to leave him alone, and that made him feel guiltier.

When he appeared at home, Hermione and Ron were waiting him for dinner already, they looked curious about what he had done during the day, and when he told them, Ron complained a little about he having interjected for the Malfoys. Harry knew that Ron wouldn't forgive them ever, and much less to understand what was it like to have a life debt with Narcissa. Harry didn't press the subject knowing it was a lost cause.

But when he mentioned Hermione's parents, the girl's gaze sparkled, it was almost as she was waiting for that to happen.

"I' m sorry I didn't care about it sooner… I suppose you'd been leaving before long", Harry said still drinking some pumpkin juice.

"Well, actually it would be Ron and me", the girl explained. "Its just that we're still finishing some details, we must use a portkey, because the Ministry isn't allowing any wizard or witch to use muggle transportation… you know, in case someone wants to run away…"

"But I'm pretty sure that if we ask permission you would be able to fly, I mean, you aren't death-eaters".

"Right, but we know you don't like people to abuse of your popularity…", Ron said and Harry smiled gratefully.

"I think we can try to buy the air tickets tomorrow", Harry continued, suddenly Ron paled and Hermione suppressed a giggle.

"He fears it".

"I do not", the boy defended himself quickly, Harry sighed deeply and avoided to laugh of his friend also.

"What are you gonna do, Harry?", Hermione asked and Harry shrugged.

"Dunno, there aren't many places I'd wanted to go or met, after all I think we've crossed the whole country during the last months…"

Ron cleared his throat and looked at Hermione, who nodded toward him.

"Remember when I suggested you a change of air?", the girl said with a non-so-customed shy voice.

"Yeah, but…", Harry doubted for an instant, looking at Ron guiltily.

"I know Ginny has been acting `strangely' lately", the red-haired said, Harry just nodded.

"Well, I guess you don't like the idea of traveling alone, and we would be on Australia at least a couple weeks as we locate my parents… You're pretty good to figure out things, perhaps you can help us and…"

"Are you saying you want me to come along with you to Australia?", Harry interrupted her.

"It would be fun, one more adventure", Ron said smiling.

"But I thought you would want to be… you know, alone", he felt ashamed before the thought of being the umpire.

"It's not about that", Ron argued. –"It's about going to search Hermione's parents".

"Right, we don't know yet where they moved exactly. We do know that they left the country, I went home last week, with Ron and saw the house occupied by another family, but I ignore the exact place they went in Australia".

"Just if I'm not a bother, I guess…"

"Oh come on buddy, it would be fun", Ron begged and Harry smiled as an answer, another adventure, maybe that's what he needed along with his friend, to get away from everything… from Ginny, thing that remembered him the last step of his planned day, but he was enjoying so much this time with Ron and Hermione, laughing and making plans, that he decided that she could wait.

Next morning Harry woke up way too confused than always, he had had a weird dream, but not one he used to have like before. In it was Joseph, the auror that escorted him at the Ministry, the two of them where alone in an unknown place, an illuminated place without anyone else. The auror was smiling at him in a way that made him to blush before the first approached him slowly and kissed him, it was an odd kiss, more aggressive than the ones he shared with Ginny or Cho, but still he liked it. When he opened his eyes, he had a huge erection and an unrealistic feeling because of knowing that that erection wasn't because of Ginny or any other woman, it was, indeed, because of a man.

He decided to go to the Burrow earlier, after all he wanted to visit Teddy and Andromeda before finishing to fix everything for the trip.

He appeared at the Burrow and Mrs. Weasley forced him to breakfast although he had it before, when Ginny come into view she looked slightly surprised and happy to see him, but after they finally could go to the living room and he told him about his plans, her anger came back.

"Australia?", Ginny asked almost yelling with her arms crossed and standing up.

"Yeah, there is where Hermione's parents are, and Ron and I want to see them and help her to bring them back", he explained trying to not get angry.

"You spent almost a year with them, you told me that when the war was over we could be together and the only thing you do is to get away from me", Ginny continued to argue walking from one side to the other of the room.

"I know, but there are things I have to do first, and I thought you would understand", Harry replied.

"Things to do?", Ginny growled –"First you locked yourself at Hogwarts for two days straight".

"Ginny… I was tired, ok?"

"Then even after my mother asked you to stay with us, you locked yourself again on that house with Ron and Hermione, without me instead".

"I don't think we are ready to share a home, you and me fight only and…"

"You stayed on that house, denying to go out and see what was happening and I endured it, for weeks, and when you finally decided to go out, what do you do? Try to free death-eaters that are unworthy…

"Only for the Malfoys, Narcissa helped me…" Harry interrupted now getting angry, he had told Ginny about what happened back on the woods with Narcissa, how Lucius seemed frightened and about Draco's little disposition to kill someone.

"The Malfoys don't deserve anything from you".

"That's something I'll decide".

"Good, sure, like everything, you decided to go looking for a way to kill you-know-who by yourself, without thinking about me or ask my opinion…"

"Ginny, you know why I did it…"

"Now you decide to go to Australia for who knows how long…"

"Hermione did a lot for me… its just you don't' get it, you weren't out there with us".

"Exactly!", Ginny said stopping in front of Harry to look at him directly –"I wasn't there because you didn't allowed it, and now you don't want me to be a part of your life, a part of the freedom you should have or is it that you don't want me in your life?

Harry stood up way too tired of that discussion.

"Yes, maybe it is, maybe I need to get away from you".

"Get way from me", she said stepping backwards and with an incredulous gaze. –"We didn't see each other for almost a year…"

"And now this isn't working…", he said while starting to walk to the exit –"I think the best for us is to give us some time… I'm sorry, I truly am", he added with a certain pity before exiting toward the backyard, thinking on how Ginny's image had gave him so much strengths during the hardest days, and how now she seemed so different to him… "_Or perhaps the one different its you_" Hermione's explanation rang on his head once more, it was that? He wouldn't love her as before the war?

**N/A:**

***I'm sure my translation of Pablo Neruda's phrase is not at all what it really meant but I keep trying. Sorry, LOL! **

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_Author's notes:_

Thanks to everyone who read my story.

The next chapter:

"**CHAPTER 3: WHAT IT FEELS TO BE A FREE DEATH-EATER"**

As you think, it's about Draco.

Don't forget that your reviews make my day to shine.

Kisses to everyone and I hope you have a great day.

**Zafy**

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_Translator's notes:_

What do you think? Good, isn't it? Please I would be more than happy if you let me know your opinion, suggestion, complaint or whatever you have to say about this story. I'm going to upload the next chapter in about two weeks ('cause the chapters are really long) so keep looking for it, want a hint? Well, Draco will suffer, a lot... yey, drama! Don't worry he is going to be fine soon ;-D. And thank you for reading.

**Hononotenshi**

P.S. I'm looking for a **beta-reader**, who says ME?


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